


Holidays

by AkuChibi



Series: What the Heart Wants [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anniversary, Domestic Fluff, Holidays, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3235418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkuChibi/pseuds/AkuChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin and Liam visit Liam's sister for the holiday season. Kevin agrees to go back to school.<br/>(terrible summary, I'm sorry, I don't want to give too much away)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Literally not much happens in this story. It's basically all fluff. So... yeah...

The grave is fresh.

Grass gives way to a padded mound of it, all dark and rich in the muggy heat. The rainy season has never felt worse.

My fingers trail over newly carved letters on cold gray stone. My thumb hesitates over the ‘L’ before smoothing over the rest of the letters. There’s some generic bible phrase beneath everything but it’s not important. It’s never been important.

Everything hurts.

The pain is unbearable. I close my eyes against the tears.

I just want to go home.

Someone shakes me, calls out to me in the darkness.

I open my eyes and there’s Liam, hovering over me worriedly like he always does when I have a nightmare. Always the same nightmare – me standing over his fresh grave with the scent of freshly disturbed earth filling my nostrils as I run my fingers along the chiseled stone. The nightmares aren’t as frequent as they once were, but when I do have them, they seem to be getting worse. More detailed, more lengthy, and I wake up crying more from relief than anything.

Relief that it’s just a dream.

Liam smiles sadly as he runs fingers through my shaggy dark blonde hair. I used to keep it short; now it’s almost down to my ears. Liam’s fingers feel good as they comb through the disheveled strands, and I relax even though I know his fingers have to be nearly cutting my scalp for me to truly feel it. Nevertheless he knows what I need, like he always does.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, with that faded Australian accent, in the still air of the room. The sun is just peeking along the horizon, barely lighting the blinds and curtains.

I look up at him. His green eyes are half-lidded and dark with sadness and worry. His black hair is no longer short-cropped like it was when we first met, but is instead down to nearly his eyebrows, slightly curly. He’s pale, but it’s winter and we don’t go out much, so that’s to be expected.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask once I’m able to find my voice.

“I never wanted this for you,” he tells me, averting his gaze. “I never wanted you to worry so much.”

He knows what my nightmares are about. He’s never asked about them, but somehow he knows all the same. Maybe I talk in my sleep. I hope not. He doesn’t need to know the details about his grave in my mind.

I move to sit up and he moves back, giving me room, withdrawing his hand. I catch said withdrawing hand and entwine our fingers, giving his hand a small squeeze. I always have to watch myself when I do this – I don’t want to accidentally hurt him should I squeeze too hard.

“I love you,” I tell him, still feeling a thrill every time I say those words. “So of course I’m going to worry.”

He shrugs somewhat helplessly. I don’t like seeing him like this. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

That familiar anger sparks through me and I glare at him. “Of course you should have told me! It’s something I need to know!”

If he had his way, I never would have found out about his condition. His heart condition. The fact he only has half a heart. Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome.

“Love,” he says in that quiet voice as he meets my eye, and I do love it when he calls me that. “Look at you. I know I’m responsible for your nightmares.”

“You’re not responsible,” I tell him, because it’s true. He’s not responsible for my dreams. He has done nothing wrong. It’s my own mind that hates me. “I’m glad I know. I told you this. But you can’t blame me for worrying.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“I love you,” I say again. “Worry’s part of the deal.”

He smiles ever so faintly, and I return it because it’s contagious.

I love this idiot. This idiot who doesn’t want me to worry about him, _ever_. If he had his way I would not know of his condition until it became a noticeable problem. To look at him, he doesn’t seem sick. He’s healthy enough, even after just getting over a chest cold. He doesn’t look like he has a bad heart. He doesn’t look like he was told he wouldn’t live past the age of twenty.

He’s twenty-three now.

He’ll be twenty-four in three days.

Four years of extra time he didn’t think he’d have. The clock is ticking, and I know one day his condition will worsen. He knows it and I know it. It’s something we don’t discuss, but it’s always there, in the back of my mind. Always there waiting for me to fall asleep, and then I dream. And wake gasping with Liam hovering over me worriedly.

He gives my hand a tight squeeze so I’m able to feel it. Being cursed with congenital analgesia means I don’t feel physical pain, but it also means I can’t really feel much of anything, except pressure. Pleasure is something I can’t have.

I was once afraid Liam would hate me for this.

After learning of his own medical condition… mine seems so trivial. He has it so much worse than I do. I’m never in pain; he probably feels it a lot. I hate this fact, but there’s little I can do about it.

“I love you, too,” he tells me, voice nothing but sincere. I know he means it; he’s loved me for a while. I love him too.

Love is a strange and powerful emotion. It’s heartache and worry, laughter and smiles, relief and fear… it’s everything all rolled into one big package, both amazing and terrifying. A rollercoaster if ever there was one.

“Think you can get back to sleep?”

I shake my head slowly. I have to be up in a few hours anyway since I have to go to work. I work at a grocery store as a cashier. There’s not many choices for someone who can get hurt without realizing it. It’s just easier this way. Liam works about eight blocks away in a small restaurant, as a cook.

“Alright, then,” he says, moving to get off the bed, his hand still grasping mine. “Let’s shower, then.”

I frown at him. “Just because I’m awake doesn’t mean you-”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me. “Hush, you. As your boyfriend it is my duty to wash your arse.” He pauses. “Ass.”

It’s so funny to see him go back and forth, since he’s originally from Australia but moved the United States when he was a teenager. He still has a slight accent, which is adorable, and sometimes he will say something like ‘arse’ instead of ‘ass’, and I love him all the more for it.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, smirking at me, “it’s a very nice ass you have. It’s my pleasure to wash it.”

My face is burning. Melting.

The things he says sometimes…

He laughs and drags me off the bed, lips planting briefly against the tip of my nose, kissing it before he hurries us out of the bedroom.

It should be embarrassing, the ease with which my fingers remove his clothing. The process is simple, though – all familiar road even if I can’t feel everything. I know every curve of his body; I’ve seen him naked several times. I can’t feel my fingers moving lightly over his smooth, pale skin, but I can see the way his flaccid cock twitches ever so slight, and I can hear his quickening breaths.

I smile, and then his mouth is on mine. All warm and pliant, even if I can’t feel it that well. I know the texture, I know the taste, and I know the terrain.

I know him.

And that’s all that matters.

xXx

Liam’s birthday is November 30th. He’s twenty-four today, a year younger than I am. Last year, on his birthday, we didn’t do much except have a movie marathon and order pizza. That was before we got together, of course. And before I learned about his condition.

This year we are going to do something special. Whatever he wants to do, I told him. I will do whatever he wants to do.

His eyes lit up when I told him this. He said he would think about what he wanted to do.

We’ve both been looking forward to it with eager anticipation.

So imagine my surprise when I wake up early November 30th sick to my stomach. My head is spinning and I barely make it to the bathroom in time, hugging the porcelain god as I give it my offering of quick vomit. It’s dark; I didn’t bother turning the lights on. I can barely see since the bathroom has no window and I’m just kneeling here, clutching the sides of the toilet.

If I felt pain, I would probably have a migraine. As it is, I only feel dizzy, and taste bile in my throat. My throat finds this insulting so it makes me start gagging, and then I’m throwing up again, chest heaving with my efforts.

_Oh, God…_

I hate throwing up. I hate everything about it. The taste, how it feels, the gagging, the sound it makes as it hits the water in the toilet… I hate it all.

I hate it even more on this day, because today is Liam’s birthday and we’ve both been looking forward to it.

The bathroom light flips on and I look over to see Liam standing in the doorway, frowning at me. He steps into the room, reaching for me, and I hold up a hand to stop him.

“No – stay back,” I tell him, running my tongue along the back of my teeth, tasting vomit again. “I’m sick.”

“I can see that,” he says, watching me carefully. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Just… don’t come near me.”

He doesn’t need to be getting sick. Again.

Like he said, his immune system is ‘shit’.

He also said his heart is shit.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks, lingering. Lingering in the tiny bathroom with all my sickly germs.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, before I gag, tasting bile in my throat again. I hunch back over the toilet and throw up again.

By the time I gather my senses, Liam is already next to me, his hand warm on the back of my neck, pushing down enough to allow me to feel it, the circles he traces over my skin. I scowl at him.

“Liam – stay away, dammit. I’m sick.”

“I know, love,” he says. “I’ll get you some water, okay?”

I nod, eager for him to leave the room. Leave me to my own germs.

Instead he moves only far enough away to step in front of the kitchen sink. He pulls out a Dixie cup and fills it with water from the tap, and then holds it out to me. My hand is shaking when I grab it. Hmm. When did that start?

I swallow down a good deal of the water, eager to rid myself of the bile’s foul taste. Once I feel stable enough, and no longer taste it in my throat, I swallow down the rest of the water and get to my feet. Liam grabs my arm as I stagger, and I shake his hold off as I toss him another scowl.

“I’m sick,” I tell him again.

“Yep, sure are,” he agrees.

“Stay away.”

“Can’t do that, love. You wouldn’t leave me be, right?”

I sigh because that’s true. When he was sick, I was at his side the whole time. Even when he told me he would only get me sick as well. I ignored him and stayed at his side until he was better. So I can’t fault him for wanting to do the same for me, but I don’t want him to. His immune system isn’t that great; he’ll get sick again, and he doesn’t need that.

He’s already been sick twice this year.

Being sick puts enough strain on one’s heart without getting sick multiple times. He clutched at his chest last time he was sick, after coughing terribly.

I still picture that when I go to sleep.

“Go lay down, Kevin,” he tells me, guiding me from the room as I try not to breathe in his direction. I’m going to make him take medicine as soon as I can. He guides me back into the bedroom and toward our bed.

_Our bed._

I’ve been living with Liam for about seven months now. I haven’t regretted a minute of it.

I sit on the bed and close my eyes. The world keeps spinning.

“I’ll fix some breakfast, and then you’re going to take some medicine.”

“So are you,” I tell him.

He scoffs. “I’m fine. I already had to drink that foul stuff, I’m not doing it when I don’t have to.”

I open my eyes and look at him. “If you’re going to insist on being near me, you’re going to take it. Or you can stay away from me. Those are your options.”

“I’ll pick door number three, please.”

“Liam, I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” he sighs, offering a tired smile. “That’s what I love about you.”

“That I’m serious?”

“That you’re serious about my health. Though, sometimes I wish you were less serious about it.”

I shake my head. “Not gonna happen.”

He chuckles. “You worry so much about health I’m beginning to wonder why you’re not a doctor.”

I smile at him. “I thought about it, once. I was taking beginning health courses in college when I… dropped out.”

I haven’t told him this part before. I realize my mistake when his eyes widen.

“You dropped out of college?” he asks, staring at me. “Why?”

I shrug, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I truly don’t know why I dropped out, to be honest. Maybe it was because I missed my hometown and my sister, so I dropped out and moved back here. Nostalgia and everything, since I grew up in this town before moving to life with my uncle after my parents died. Or maybe I dropped out because I was getting close to this guy named Donny and he made a pass at me. This was before I met Liam, of course; I didn’t think I’d ever be capable of being in a relationship, so I kind of panicked.

“I don’t know why I left,” I say again, because that’s the honest truth.

“Well, you should go back.”

“What?” Now I’m staring at him.

“You should go back,” he repeats, sitting next to me on the bed.

I scoot over to put some space between us. He scowls but says nothing about it.

“Why should I go back?”

“Because you’re good at it.”

“Good at… what?”

“Health,” he says. “You went out of your way to make a care plan for me, for god’s sake. You’d be good at doing it for a living. And you hate working at the grocery store.”

He is right about that. I don’t really like my job, but there’s not much I can do about it.

“College is expensive,” I say.

“So you admit you want to go back,” he says, grinning, and I realize I have walked into a trap.

He’s good at that, really.

I scowl at him. “I don’t have the money for it so it doesn’t matter if I want to or not.”

“You can get grants and everything, Kevin. You know this. You know it’s not a problem; you can do something online or go to community college.”

The local community college is cheap enough, I guess. But that’s not the point, really.

“I don’t have time for it.”

Between work and spending time with him, I don’t have time for school.

“Cut back your hours at work,” he says. “Tell them you’re going to school. Have a part-time job and part-time classes. You can do it.”

He sounds so certain. Like it’s so incredibly simple and all I have to do is say ‘yes’ and it will happen. But he’s wrong.

“What about you?” I ask, turning it back on him. “Did you go to school?”

He chuckles. “Never applied anywhere.”

“Why not?”

He’s smart enough.

He shrugs, looking away. “I didn’t see the point at the time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah – when you’re seventeen and eighteen, you get all kinds of letters from colleges. Your teachers and counselors tell you go apply to at least three places. I didn’t see the point.”

“Why not?”

He is quiet for a moment, before he releases a slow sigh, looking at the ground. “At the time, I thought I was going to die at twenty. Or before then. I didn’t see the point in signing up anywhere when I wouldn’t be around to do anything.”

The room falls into this icy silence as I close my eyes. I don’t like listening to him talk about things like that. Things like the doctors telling him he wouldn’t live to see twenty. I don’t like listening to him discuss his condition like that. I don’t like listening to him contemplate his own death.

“If you went to college…” I say quietly, keeping my eyes closed. “What would you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “Never really thought about it.”

“Well, think about it now.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Maybe Art,” he finally says.

“Art?”

“Yeah – I liked drawing. And painting.”

I open my eyes and look at him. “You drew?”

“I did, when I was younger.”

He says ‘younger like he’s old, and he’s only twenty-four.

“What did you draw?” I ask, watching him.

“People, landscapes, comics… I doodled a lot. Whatever I wanted.”

He has never mentioned this before. I know he likes to read, as he usually reads every night before bed, with his black-framed reading glasses, but he has never mentioned anything about art and drawing. I am seeing a whole new side of him.

I like what I see.

I grin. “I bet you were adorable, covered in paint.”

He chuckles, eyes twinkling as he looks at me. “Mom used to say I got tackled by a rainbow on the way home. I’d come home with greens and blues on my face and everything.”

I laugh, picturing a young Liam – younger, in his teens – coming home from school with colors splotched over his face and fingers and clothes from painting something. I have this urge to wrap my arms around him and kiss him, but I resist because I’m sick and he doesn’t need to be getting sick again.

I take in a slow breath. “So if you went to college – would you start drawing again?”

“College is expensive, remember?” he says. “And I don’t have a car. I don’t feel like walking six miles to get there.”

I shrug. “I could drive you.”

“No thanks, love,” he says, smiling at me. “I appreciate the thought, but college isn’t for me. You should go, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“It would make you happy.”

I frown, watching him. “I’m already happy,” I tell him, because I am. I’m happy with him.

He shakes his head. “You don’t like your job, and you’re worried about me all the time. Classes will give you something else to focus on, and you can get a different job after.”

He has a point, but I still shake my head.

“Kevin – do something you want, please. For me. You can consider it my birthday wish.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Sorry I’m sick on your birthday.”

“Think nothing of it, love.”

I take in a slow breath. “You really want me to go to college?”

“Yes, Kevin. I want you to go to college and be happy.”

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

His eyes widen marginally. “Oh? A deal?”

I nod, wetting my lips. “I’ll go to some classes if you start drawing again.”

He watches me for a moment, and then throws his head back and laughs. This happy, genuine laugh I love so much, and I grin at him. I love his laugh. “Alright, mate,” he says, nodding at me, the grin nearly splitting his face. “You have yourself a deal.”

I smile, my fingers curling in the covers beneath me so I don’t reach out and hug him. “Happy birthday, Liam.”

“It’s already a good birthday. Though, you still need to take your medicine. Don’t think you’re going to distract me from that.” He pats my knee and then gets to his feet. “I’ll go make breakfast. You lay down. I’ll wake you when it’s done.”

He puts a chaste kiss to my forehead before I can protest or move away, and then he’s gone, out of the room.

I smile and lay down.

xXx

“Got everything, love?”

I nod as I drag the last of the luggage out of the apartment. I’ve already made two trips down to the car, and this is the last one. Liam picks up a bag as well – the only thing I will let him carry – and locks the door behind us, tossing me a quick grin as we head toward the elevator.

We exit the elevator on the first floor and continue out of the apartment building to head toward my car. The backseat is full. We are going to be gone for two weeks.

We are going out of state to go to his sister’s for Christmas and New Year’s, since she came to his place last year. We will get back home around January 2nd.

Kelly, my sister, was upset that I wouldn’t be here for the holidays, but encouraged me to go with Liam, like I wouldn’t have gone otherwise. I will always go with Liam.

“I can drive if you want to switch half way,” he tells me as he climbs into the passenger seat and I the driver’s seat.

I key the ignition and shrug. “I can drive. It’s not that long of a drive, right?”

“Seven hours,” he tells me somewhat apologetically. “I can drive, don’t worry.”

“Do you even have a license?” I ask, because I have never seen him drive. He has never offered to drive before, either. Or asked to use the car when I’m not using it. He walks everywhere, or I take him to places.

He scowls. “Yes, I have a license.”

“Then why don’t you have a car?”

“Cars are expensive. And my insurance hates me.”

“Oh?” I ask as we pull away from the building.

“Yeah – apparently they don’t like it when you might pass out behind the wheel, so they don’t bother.”

“Pass out?” I ask with a quick look at him.

“Oh, um… well…” He shifts uncomfortably, and I know he has let something slip he didn’t mean to do.

“Tell me,” I say, just like I did when I told him to tell me about his heart condition in the first place. It hurts to know he’s been keeping something else from me, but I know he doesn’t want me to worry about him. He thinks hiding things will help.

Suddenly I feel very uneasy. I can’t feel the knot in my stomach, exactly, but I know it’s there.

“You’re not… not…” I can’t say it.

“Love?”

I can feel Liam’s eyes on me. “You’re not… showing signs, right? Of, um… you’re not, right?”

_Please say no._

If he was hiding symptoms from me… hiding signs that his condition has worsened…

Because it _will_ worsen, at some point. It is only a matter of time, and that’s what scares me.

It’s why I dream of fresh graves and chiseled stone.

“What? No,” he says quickly. “Oh, God, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think…”

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and nod slowly. “Okay – then what are you hiding?”

“If I get too short of breath or… too dizzy, I can, uh… pass out. Sometimes.”

“Pass out,” I echo.

“Yeah, you know – go to sleep for a few minutes. Nothing major.”

“Nothing _major_?” I repeat, tossing him a glance. “And you didn’t think to mention this to me?”

“It hasn’t happened in years.”

Well, that’s good – at least he hasn’t been hiding it from me. He hasn’t passed out without my knowledge. My grip on the steering wheel remains tight, though. I can’t feel the tension in my grip, but I can see the white knuckles.

_Passing out._

Another symptom to be aware of.

I mentally added it to the list and made a note to write it down on my actual list.

_Dizziness, passing out, shortness of breath, exhaustion…_

“Anyway,” he says, breaking the silence, “so I don’t have a car.”

“But you want to drive half way.”

“Well, I mean – you’re here, so I don’t have to worry about, um… you know.” He waves his finger in a gesture meant to symbolize his ‘passing out’. “Look – I didn’t tell you because you’ll only worry, but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s common in, uh… people with heart issues. So don’t worry about it.”

I say nothing, only tighten my grip on the steering wheel and keep looking straight ahead. If I look at him, I’ll see his concern for me in his eyes and I can’t handle that right now.

“Kevin.”

I take in a slow breath. “Hmm?”

“I know you don’t feel pain, but if you grip any tighter, your fingers are going to break, love. Relax.”

I sigh and relax my grip as we drive through a green light.

“Please don’t worry about this.”

“Okay.”

We both know it’s a lie.

xXx

“Li-Li!”

Liam’s sister, Lydia, all but pounces on him as soon as she sees him. I smile at her enthusiasm, chuckling as Liam flails in her hold. My humor is replaced by horror when she releases him and turns to me with that grin. Before I can blink she’s on me, hugging me. The pressure is tight.

“Stop groping my boyfriend,” Liam says, prying his sister away from me.

“That’s your job,” Lydia says with a smirk.

My face is on fire. Again.

The things these two say…

Lydia’s green eyes – a shade lighter than Liam’s – look me over. I feel oddly like a deer being watching by a wolf. She laughs and tucks a lock of her dark brown hair behind her ear before pushing the door further open, gesturing for us to come inside.

It’s freezing outside, and starting to snow again. And it’s been a long drive.

I drove the whole way. Liam fell asleep shortly after we left the apartment and I let him sleep. He woke up about an hour ago and complained that I didn’t wake him up so he could drive and I could rest. I told him it was fine, and continued driving the rest of the way.

Which is fine. I didn’t mind the drive.

It’s warm inside Lydia’s house. She has a two-story house in a fairly uncrowded, decent neighborhood. Inside are a few groups of people – some in the living room, some in the kitchen, and I’m sure there are some upstairs. It’s a full house. The complete opposite of last year at Liam’s.

Last year it was just him, me, his sister, her husband, and her best friend. Five in total.

This year…

They have to be her husband’s family. Liam and Lydia’s parents were killed about four years ago when someone broke into their house. Liam found the bodies. At first I assumed that was why he was in therapy – it’s hard to come home to find your parents dead on their anniversary.

But now I know about his heart condition. He must have been there for that and the break-in.

Thankfully he’s not in therapy anymore, even though he did restart it after we got together last year.

Last year.

Our own anniversary is coming up.

The thought hadn’t occurred to me until now.

Now I can’t stop grinning.

On New Year’s, Liam and I will have been together for a year.

A year of happiness.

A year of love.

“Kevin.”

I blink and look at Liam, who is standing next to me, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking up with this adorable little scowl.

“Yes?” I ask.

“I have to kiss you.”

He says this so solemnly. I look up and laugh when I see mistletoe there.

“Well… if you _must_ ,” I say, and he looks at me and smiles.

“The things I do for Christmas.”

And then his mouth is on mine.

I forget about everyone in the room and wrap my arms around him. He releases this happy, surprised sound and I grin against his lips.

His eyes are aglow when we pull back. His smile is wide and has to be breaking his face.

“You two are so cute, but please, my dentist advised against cavities,” Lydia says, laughing as she stands in front of us. She’s lowering her phone and I _know_ she’s taken a picture.

I scowl at her and she ‘eeps’ before she quickly leaves the room, taking the phone and evidence with her.

Liam laughs. It’s this light, happy sound, and my gaze is drawn back toward him. “Don’t worry about her,” he says. “She’s harmless. Mostly.”

I smirk and shake my head as I take his hand. “Where do we put our things?”

“Upstairs,” he says.

I kiss his knuckles and then move to head back outside.

He follows anyway.

We get our things – me with three bags, him with two – and travel upstairs before depositing them on the bed in our guest room. The room is large enough, with a queen-size bed and a decent-sized closet. The bathroom is right across the hall.

I glance at Liam out of the corner of my eye as he puts his bags down on the bed. He doesn’t appear out of breath, so I lead the way out of the room and back downstairs.

It’s a week before Christmas, but the group gathered here is large. They are doing the family Christmas here, and then our actual Christmas on Christmas Day. I’m looking forward to it because I actually got Liam something this year.

“Dinner’s ready!” someone says from the kitchen.

Liam looks at me, grinning. “Looks like we got here just in time.”

I smile and follow him into the kitchen.

xXx

The week passes quickly enough. It’s pleasant here. Lydia is wonderful and her husband is nice. It’s just the four of us right now. Tomorrow is Christmas and we will be having dinner and opening presents, and relaxing.

Today is Christmas Eve.

“So – what _was_ little Liam like?” I can’t help but ask as we sit at the dinner table, eating pizza which we had delivered for supper.

Lydia laughs wile Liam tosses me a quick scowl. “Don’t answer that,” Liam says. “As your brother, I forbid it.”

“Well, as your sister, I’m afraid I have to answer,” she says in return. She looks at me and smiles. Liam buries his face in his hands with a groan. “Little Li-Li was a rambunctious little tyke. He kept running around talking people’s heads off. Mom and Dad were always chasing after him. He was also always bringing home stray animals.”

“Not _always_ ,” Liam mutters into his hands. “Like twice.”

“ _Always_ ,” Lydia continues. “That’s how we got a puppy, actually. He found a stray and brought it home all ‘Mummy, can I keep it? Please?’ and how could she say no? So we kept the little ankle-biter. And then he decided to save a squirrel.”

I snort out a laugh. “A squirrel?” I ask, to make sure I heard right.

She grins. “That’s right, a squirrel. Hmm, what else was there… lots of dogs and cats. He wanted to keep everything he saw.”

“Please stop,” Liam sighs, dropping his arms onto the table, burying his face into them instead. I rub a hand against his hunched back, laughing quietly.

Lydia smiles at me. “You two are adorable.”

My face is melting again, but I keep my hand on his back because I know he likes it.

“He hated going to the doctor.” Now her face turns sad, and her voice has quieted.

“Who doesn’t?” Liam asks into his arms. “Always poking you with needles. _Needles_. Nasty things.”

“The first time he saw a needle he freaked out,” Lydia says with a small smirk. “Ran and hid behind Dad’s legs.”

“You’d be scared too if they just said ‘hello’ and tried to stab you,” Liam tells her, his voice muffled.

“He also used to milk being sick. He’d cough and be like ‘no I can’t go to school today, Daddy’ and Dad would just call him off. He was spoiled. Never worked when I tried it.”

“You’re just not as awesome as me, obviously.”

Lydia chuckles and shakes her head.

“Obviously,” she echoes.

xXx

It’s late. I can’t sleep.

Liam has been asleep for hours, breaths deep and even as he lays next to me. I finally sigh and climb out of bed, careful to not disturb him, and exit the room.

I’m not alone, it seems.

Lydia is in the kitchen, making some hot cocoa. She smiles as she sees me, clad in a fuzzy robe much like Liam’s except it’s light red.

“Hey,” she says quietly.

“Hey,” I reply.

“Cocoa?”

“Yes, please.”

She nods and hands me a cup when it’s finished. We sit together at the table.

“Can’t sleep?” she asks.

“Not really. You?”

She shrugs. “I suffer from insomnia. It’s typical. I get up when I can’t sleep so I don’t roll over and knee Adrian in the kidneys.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sure Liam isn’t like that, at least.”

“I can’t feel it if he does.”

She nods, taking a sip of the cocoa. “Right, your… whatever it’s called.”

“Congenital analgesia,” I say, watching her. “Liam told you.”

“That you can’t feel pain? Yes, he told me. I’m his sister; he tells me everything. Plus he thinks that’s awesome.”

I pause. “Oh?”

“Yes. He says he likes a challenge.”

I chuckle, sipping at my drink. “Yeah – he said something like that to me, too.”

“So how are things with you two?” she asks conversationally, taking a large sip of her hot cocoa, leaving a dark mustache on her lips which she quickly licks away.

“Fine,” I say.

She quirks a brow. “Just fine?”

I look away. “He told me about, um…”

“HLHS,” she says, and I nod, keeping my gaze focused on the ground. “And you’re okay with that?”

I frown. “I’m not _okay_ with any of that, but I’m dealing with it.”

Of course I wasn’t okay with him having a heart condition. I wish he didn’t have it.

I wish…

I want him to be okay.

“I love him,” I say quietly, so softly I’m not quite sure the words are even audible until I look up and she’s grinning at me.

“That’s great,” she says. “He loves you.”

I nod slowly. “How do you… How do you deal with…”

“With?”

I swallow. “I have dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Of… Of him… I have dreams of him dying.”

“Oh.” She frowns, sitting back in her chair, watching me carefully, her green eyes calculating. “I see. I’m sorry.”

“Do you never…?”

“No – I grew up with him having HLHS. I’m used to it.”

“So you don’t worry…?”

She makes it look so easy.

“I worry about him. That’s never going to stop,” she tells me, shaking her head. “But I have to live my life, and he has to live his. I’m not his mom. I can’t be there holding his hand all the time. I know he has a heart condition, and I know it sucks, but it’s his life. As long as he’s happy… then I’m okay with whatever happens.”

She makes it sound so easy.

Like it’s so simple.

It’s not.

“You don’t see it that way, huh?”

“No,” I manage to say, looking down at the hot cocoa in my cup. “I just… I dream about it. A lot. And I don’t… I don’t like it.”

“No one likes it. Just stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t.”

I’ve tried.

She sighs. “He said you made him a care plan?”

I look back up at her, frowning. “Yes…”

“Let me see it. I’ll add some things to look out for.”

“Some things?”

She nods. “Yes. My brother can be an ass about his health so I _know_ he didn’t tell you everything. I’ve known him all my life. I know what’s odd for him. Let me see this plan, and I’ll add whatever’s missing.”

I smile, feeling… better than I had a few minutes ago. I get to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”

She nods and I leave the kitchen to collect the papers from the guest room.

xXx

“Baby, wake up.”

I still smile every time I call him that. And the way he reacts to it is wonderful. His eyes blink open and he’s immediately smiling at me. That soft, warm smile I love. I brush a few strands of his black hair out of his face as I sit next to him, leaning over him.

“Morning,” he says to me.

“Merry Christmas,” I say in return, and he laughs.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

I grin and lean down to capture his mouth with my own, a familiar dance.

When I sit back, he follows after me, sitting up. I don’t realize he’s caught hold of my shirt until he’s pulling me closer to him, the kiss deepening.

“I love you, Kevin,” he says when we break for air, and I grin at him.

“Love you, too.”

And I do.

I’ve never loved anyone like I love him.

He gets this fond look in his eyes. “You know, our anniversary’s coming up.”

I chuckle, feeling giddy. “I know.”

“Any plans?”

I shrug.

I’m willing to do whatever he wants so long as we’re together.

He seems to understand this because he smirks. “You’re such a romantic.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” he says, pulling me back in for a kiss. “Never complaining.”

After the kiss, we climb out of bed. It’s nearly ten in the morning; we’ve overslept. I was up late with Lydia, going over his care plan, but of course I don’t tell him about this.

It’s one of the things of which we do not speak.

“I’m gonna shower,” he tells me, picking up some clean clothes. He winks at me suggestively as he moves toward the doorway. “You’re more than welcome to join me.”

I laugh and follow after him with my own clean clothes.

Showering with Liam is – wonderful.

Showers in general are wonderful.

Being with Liam in general is wonderful.

Putting those two together…

I sigh happily as Liam massages the tense muscles in my back. The spray of warm, nearly hot, water washes over us as he does so. I can’t quite feel the pleasure of such a massage, but I can feel my body relaxing on its own, so I know I am tense.

“Everything okay, love?” he asks from behind me.

I nod, eyes falling closed. “Yes. Everything’s fine.”

With the two of us here, like this – everything is fine.

Everything is perfect.

xXx

The grave is fresh.

The name familiar.

The ache – too real.

_No, no, no…_

This isn’t real. It’s not real. It can’t be.

_Wake up. C’mon. Wake up._

Not real, not real, not real.

_Wake up!_

I open my eyes. Liam hovers over me worriedly, and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him down on top of me. He’s so warm, so real, so alive. I crush him to me and his face settles against my collarbone.

“Love?”

“I’m fine,” I say quietly, breathlessly, as I close my eyes. My face presses into his hair. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I’m okay.”

I’m okay because I’m awake, and the dream isn’t real.

It’s not real.

So I’m fine.

Lydia said she got used to it and it got easier.

A part of me hopes that’s true because I hate feeling like this. I hate having these nightmares. I hate waking Liam every time and having to hold onto him like a baby.

I hope this gets easier, but somehow I doubt it.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, into my skin.

“I’m not,” I tell him.

I’m happy I know about his condition. He doesn’t need to be sorry for telling me. Yes, I’m worried, but the worry is my own. He doesn’t need to feel sorry about it.

I worry because I love him.

I worry because I don’t want to see fresh graves, chiseled stone, disturbed earth…

I worry because I want to keep him.

Now that I found him… now that I love him…

I want to keep him.

“Love…”

“Yes?” I ask quietly.

“I need to breathe, love.”

Immediately I release him. He sighs and pushes back enough to look at me, frowning.

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” he tells me, and then kisses my nose. “I love you. I’m gonna cook breakfast, if you want to come with me.”

I know I can’t get back to sleep, so I nod and follow him out of bed.

His fingers catch mine and squeeze hard enough for me to feel, and I squeeze right back.

We say nothing more about the dream.

It, too, is something of which we do not speak.

xXx

The restaurant is fancy. I’m surprised it doesn’t require ties to get in.

The seats are comfortable, though.

The waiter bows as he leaves to get our drinks, and I look across the table at Liam, who is looking through the large red menu.

And he looks so perfect right now.

His eyes are green and happy. His hair is slightly curly and dark on his slightly pale skin. His expression is contorted in concentration as he attempts to figure out what he wants to eat when we both know he’s going to get steak. He looks over everything else anyway.

He realizes I’m watching him and looks at me, catching my eye as a slow smile works its way across his face. “See something you like?” he asks.

I smile, the conversation familiar and easy. “I’ll let you know,” I tell him with a wink, and he laughs.

The waiter returns with our drinks.

We order our food.

Two steaks, mine medium-well and his well done, with fries and mashed potatoes as sides for me, and vegetables and fries for him.

He scowls as the waiter takes our menus and walks away. “I like fries and potatoes too, you know.”

I shrug. “You need your veggies.”

He rolls his eyes. “Because it’s our anniversary, I’ll allow it. But next time I’m getting the fatty foods.”

I shrug and take a sip of my cola, watching him over the rim of my glass.

xXx

We rent a hotel room that night. It’s more a romantic gesture than anything, really.

We go down to the hotel pool, indoors and heated.

I’ve never seen Liam in swimming trunks before, but he looks good in those dark red ones.

After swimming for a little bit we go back up to our hotel room, shivering through the hallways. Once inside we fight over who gets the bathroom first, and then decide we can both take a hot shower together.

After that, we’re in bed with our nightclothes on, watching TV. I’m leaning into Liam, who has his arm around me. My ear is against his shoulder, blocking the sound somewhat, but I don’t mind.

We watch a few random movies before I realize what he’s doing.

I have been half asleep on his shoulder for a little while, drifting in a pleasant haze, and now my body is tensing and I’m not sure why. Not sure until Liam chuckles warmly and I look down the length of my body to see the bulge forming in my sweatpants.

Only he is able to do this to me, it seems. I gave up on self-release a while ago, and it’s been many years since I had sex. It was too difficult since I can’t feel much of anything except pressure.

Liam, though…

He somehow manages to get my body to react without me knowing.

My body feels, apparently.

But the signal gets lost somewhere between it and my head.

He easily pulls my sweatpants down, along with my underwear, freeing my rising member. It’s red and hard by now, and I stare down at it in awe. It always amazes me when he’s able to do this to me.

And then his lips – pink, perfect lips – close around the head and I _know_ I can’t feel it, but seeing him do this feels like enough, and I tilt my head back with a happy sigh.

We haven’t had sex. We haven’t done much of anything, really.

He does this, though. Occasionally.

And it’s amazing because my body feels it even if I can’t.

My muscles tense before too long and I watch as he licks at the cum that shoots out, like a beautiful little puppy.

My dark-haired little puppy.

“Lay down,” I tell him, smiling warmly.

He blinks at me and then does as he’s asked while I pull my pants back up.

And then I pull his down.

His eyes get huge and he releases this little whine. “Yes,” he breathes, “please.”

He knows what I am planning.

I grin, and then take the head of his own hard cock into my mouth, rolling my tongue along the tip of it. The skin is smooth and twitches in my hold. I squeeze my lips a little more firmly around him and he gasps as I get a good rhythm going, bobbing my head.

The little moans he makes are breathtaking.

I could cum from that sound alone.

“Please,” he breathes, and there’s a hand tangle in my hair, pulling harshly at the strands so I can feel it. “ _Please_.”

A few more bobs, a few more licks, and he’s coming in my mouth.

The taste is foreign, it’s been so long since I’ve done this.

But it’s Liam, and Liam is still my favorite taste.

I lap it up and grin up at him.

His eyes are large and warm, full of love. “Thank you,” he breathes happily, running his hand from my hair down to my jawline. “I love you.”

“Happy anniversary,” I tell him, moving up the length of his body to press a chaste kiss to his mouth.

He holds me to him so I can’t pull away, and the kiss deepens.

In his mouth I can taste me.

In my mouth he can taste him.

We mix together and become one.

xXx

The drive back to our apartment is long. We arrive back late at night, and it’s freezing and there’s ice on the ground. Liam nearly falls, half-asleep from the drive, and I catch him as he laughs, scowling at the ice.

“Everything wants to kill me,” he sighs, righting himself as we continue inside. He carries two bags, and I carry three. It’s too cold to make multiple trips.

We enter our apartment. The scent rolls over me like a wave of wonder, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. There really is no place like home. No matter how much I liked it at Lydia’s, this is home, and it always will be. In the end this is where I always want to be.

Here with Liam.

We put the bags in our room and Liam collapses on the bed with a wide yawn, clutching at his pillow.

“Never leaving again,” he says happily, burying his face in his pillow.

I smile, watching him. “Feels good to be home, huh?”

“Yes. It would feel better if you came down here with me.”

I chuckle and join him on the bed. Immediately his arm is around me, and he’s curling into my side.

Burrowing, his feet stuffing under my legs.

My little, tired puppy.

I kiss the top of his head and he opens one green eye, looking at me.

“Did you have fun?”

I blink at the question. “Of course,” I tell him, smiling. “Did you?”

His eye slips closed again. “Yes – I love being at my sister’s. Everyone’s so nice. I like being here more, though.” Now both eyes open, and he’s smiling at me. “With you.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Such a romantic.”

“Oh, admit it, you love me.”

“I do,” I tell him fondly.

“You’re gonna go back to college, right?” he asks suddenly. “You’re not gonna back out?”

I take in a slow breath. “I’ll go back if you remember our deal.”

His face lights up in a grin. “I’ll draw and you learn.”

I kiss the tip of his nose. “Sounds like a plan, baby.”

He laughs and pulls me down on top of him.

I don’t fight it.

There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, right now, with him.

And that’s never going to change.


End file.
